


How To Save A Life

by Finduilas



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Bucky Barnes & Steve Rogers Friendship, Doctor Tony Stark, Feel-good, Firefighter Steve Rogers, First Meetings, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Steve Rogers, Pining, Slow Burn, Steve gets injured a lot, Tony fixes him up, Tropes, brief mention of an off screen death of a minor unnamed character, but everyone's fine in the end!, non graphic injuries and near death experience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27471901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finduilas/pseuds/Finduilas
Summary: Steve is a firefighter with a tendency to get hurt on the job. Tony is the ER doctor that has to treat Steve. Need I say more?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 46
Kudos: 373





	How To Save A Life

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am neither a firefighter nor a doctor. I did some googling, but I can’t assure that there won’t be any inaccuracies when it comes to medical or firefighter procedure. I apologize for that. 
> 
> Many thanks to Gemma for the beta job!

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” Steve says as he shifts slightly on the examination bed, feeling a little bit guilty as the buckles of his loose suspenders rip the paper protection sheet. 

“And I really don’t think you have much of a choice,” Bucky shrugs, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“You’re not my mother,” Steve says as he rolls his eyes, swallowing away a tickle in his throat. 

“Thank God for that,” Bucky huffs out a laugh, “Wouldn’t wanna feed the likes of you.” 

“You’re not my superior either,” Steve says, fixing Bucky with a look as he adds poignantly, “ _ Lieutenant. _ ” 

Bucky’s about to open his mouth and say something completely insubordinate, Steve is sure of it - Bucky’s lucky Steve is not just his boss but also his best friend - when Steve can’t ignore the tickle in his throat anymore and starts coughing. 

“And that’s why you don’t have a choice, you punk,” Bucky says, the smile wiped off his face in an instant as he steps closer to Steve, placing his hand on Steve’s back as he coughs on. 

“‘s fine,” Steve mutters between coughs, trying to steady his breathing and suppress the fit. He manages to calm down again, the cough subsiding as he evens his breathing. Bucky is still hovering over him like he always does. 

“It’s just a tickle in my throat,” Steve says, “You know I wasn’t in there long enough for any real damage.” 

“Whatever,” Bucky says as he turns away, crossing his arms in front of him once more. This isn’t the first time they’ve had this argument. “The doctor will be the judge of that.” 

As if on cue, the door to the examination room opens and a man in dark blue scrubs steps in, looking down at the chart in his hands. 

“Mister Rogers?” the doctor says, then looks up and his eyes widen a bit as he takes in the sight of Steve and Bucky in their uniform, “Or, uh… There’s probably a title that goes with that?” The doctor’s smile reaches his eyes - brown and intense - as they meet Steve’s. Steve is fairly sure he’s supposed to be saying something now, but somehow he’s too busy staring at the man in front of him. He’s not very tall but obviously well built underneath those scrubs - and are they meant to be this tight? His hair is dark and a bit unkempt, in stark contrast with the neatly trimmed beard that frames his charming smile. 

“Captain Rogers,” Bucky’s voice breaks through his reverie. 

“Captain”, the doctor nods, a quick glance at Bucky before focusing back on Steve. 

“I’ll just wait outside,” Bucky says, tapping Steve on the shoulder in support. As he makes his way to the door and past the doctor, he adds, “He’s gonna act all tough and pretend he’s fine but don’t be fooled by it, please.” 

“Bucky!” Steve calls out embarrassed, but the doctor just smirks. 

“Don’t worry, I know my way around stubborn patients,” the doctor mock-whispers as he leans a little closer to Bucky, throwing Steve a glance out of the corner of his eyes. Steve is pretty sure he’s blushing bright red. He can only hope enough soot and dust made it onto his face to hide it a little. 

Bucky leaves the room - not a minute too soon - and the doctor puts down the chart on a table and turns his attention completely to Steve. 

“So, Captain,” he starts. 

“Steve,” Steve interrupts hurriedly, “Please, just… Steve.” 

He doesn’t have time to wonder if that is completely unprofessional of him, because the doctor is smiling again - damn, that is a good look - and sticks out his hand as he says, “Doctor Stark. But please call me Tony,  _ Steve _ .” 

Steve can’t help but return the smile as he shakes the doctor’s -  _ Tony’s _ \- hand. 

“So, your chart says possible smoke inhalation,” Tony says, eyes wandering clearly down Steve’s uniform, “I’m guessing that’s a professional hazard?” 

“I’m fine,” Steve starts, “It’s just that I can’t convince my men to get checked out when necessary if I don’t set a good example, but…” 

“You’re fine,” Tony repeats, obviously trying to suppress a smirk. 

Steve sighs, slumping down a bit on the side of the examination bed. 

“How about you just let me do what I’m actually paid to do and I’ll let you know if you’re fine or not?” Tony quirks an eyebrow at Steve expectantly. 

Steve resists the urge to roll his eyes. He nods, giving the doctor the go ahead. 

“Alright,” Tony says as he rolls one of the machines a little bit closer, then reaches for Steve’s hand. “I’ll just get this pulse ox on you,” he says, fingers wrapping around Steve’s wrist gently as Steve dutifully sticks out his index finger so Tony can place the pulse oximetry over it. He glances over at the monitor before letting go of Steve’s wrist. “I’m gonna have a listen to your heart and lungs,” Tony says, taking the stethoscope that was hanging around his neck. “So if you could just…” Tony says, nodding towards Steve’s chest. 

“Right,” Steve says and he’s not entirely sure why he’s feeling a little bit self conscious right now. He showers with his entire company, for God’s sake. Taking off his shirt in front of an ER doctor shouldn’t be a problem. His coat is already on the bed beside him and, his suspenders down, Steve just reaches for his shirt with his free hand and tugs it over his head before laying it on top of his coat. He smooths his hair back down by raking his fingers through it and looks back at Tony, who is quite obviously staring. Steve can feel his blush run all the way down his neck as he swallows. 

“Well, guess now I know why they call you New York’s finest,” Tony says after clearing his throat and blinking a few times. 

“That’s actually the police department,” Steve says and he can’t help but smile shyly at Tony's reaction. 

“Right. Well, there should be a change in name then,” Tony says, regaining his composure as he sticks the stethoscope in his ears, “Uproot the system.” 

“There’d be riots,” Steve grins, ducking his head a little in embarrassment. 

“Some things are worth fighting for, Steve,” Tony says with a wink, then places the diaphragm of the stethoscope against Steve’s chest. “Sit up straight for me.” 

Steve immediately complies, as if standing to attention. He bites back a comment about how he’s having a hard time being anything straight for Tony right now, but he has to cling to the last bit of professionalism he has left. Sure, Steve knows he’s got his physique going for him and Tony is clearly impressed by it. That doesn’t mean it’s an invitation for Steve to sexually harass him though. 

“Breathe normally,” Tony says, moving the chest piece of the stethoscope over Steve’s heart. Steve does as asked, suddenly very aware of the fact that Tony is listening to his heart, which is most definitely reacting to the proximity of this gorgeous and charming man in front of him. Steve closes his eyes, tries to keep it together. He feels incredibly stupid and self-conscious. He’s acting like a teenage girl with a crush on the cute doctor. Maybe he can blame his elevated heart rate on the adrenaline and possible smoke inhalation? 

“Sounds good,” Tony murmurs, then moves the stethoscope over Steve’s chest. “Deep breaths now.” 

Steve lets out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, before following Tony’s instructions and taking a deep one. Then a second. It’s on the third that Steve suddenly starts coughing again, the tickle in his throat too much to ignore. Tony takes the earpieces out of his ears and places a hand on Steve’s naked shoulder. 

“It’s okay,” Tony says encouragingly, “It’s okay. Let it out.” 

Steve hacks heavily - and wow, that’s gotta be an attractive sight - turning his face away from Tony and coughing into his elbow. His eyes prickle with tears as his chest contracts with each cough, discomfort rasping through his throat. When he calms down again, he realizes that Tony’s thumb is rubbing back and forth over his skin where his hand is laying on Steve’s shoulder. Steve doesn’t even know if Tony is aware he’s doing it. Steve doesn’t mind though. 

“Sorry,” Steve mutters when he catches his breath again, wiping his hand over his eyes to brush away the tears. 

“Pretty sure that’s why you’re here,” Tony says, giving him a gentle smile as he sticks his stethoscope back in his ears, “So no need.” 

Steve nods and Tony goes back to listening to Steve’s lungs. When Tony steps around to Steve’s back, Steve doesn’t know why he does it but he can’t help but flex his shoulders a little bit. He doesn’t know why he so desperately wants to impress this guy. He’s kind of disappointed he can’t see Tony’s face - while simultaneously internally chastiding himself for being such a douche - but he’s pretty sure he can hear a little approving hum coming out of Tony’s mouth before he places the diaphragm back on Steve’s skin, and Steve goes back to taking deep breaths like a good patient. 

When Tony’s done with his examinations and medical questions, he swings the stethoscope back over his shoulders and takes the pulse oximetry off of Steve’s finger - his own fingers brushing over Steve’s as he does so, making Steve’s skin tingle - and says, “I’m going to have to agree with you and say you’re fine.” 

Steve lets out a relieved puff of air. “Told you,” he smiles at Tony. 

“Better safe than sorry, right?” Tony smiles back, “But your lungs sound completely clear, your saturation’s good. I see no need for a chest x-ray or an ABG. Your cough is most likely due to some irritation in the throat because of the smoke. It should wear off quickly. It’s not in your lungs.”

“Thank you,” Steve says, grabbing his shirt and pulling it back over his head. 

“I want you to take it easy though,” Tony says, seriously, “Don’t go running right back into a fire. And if you start developing a headache, nausea, or vomiting, I want you to come right back, okay? Same for chest pains or difficulty breathing or if you start coughing up stuff, even though I’m really not expecting it. I would say, no playing a hero, but I guess that kinda comes with the job?” 

Steve ducks his head with a timid smile as he pulls his suspenders back up over his shoulders. “Isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black though?” He asks as he looks up at Tony. 

“I’m not running into burning buildings,” Tony says, like Steve would have to be crazy to do so.

“More than one way to save lives, doc,” Steve says, hopping off the examination bed. 

“You’d be surprised how much of my time is spent pulling foreign objects that have no business being inside people’s orifices out of those orifices,” Tony says with a grin, then spreads his arms wide, “The glamorous life of an ER doctor!” 

Steve barks out a laugh that he can’t hold back. 

And that’s the first time he meets Doctor Tony Stark. 

***

The second time Steve sees Tony, it’s not actually Steve that is in need of a doctor, but Sam. Sam, who fell through the weakened floorboards of a burning attic to the floor below. He never lost consciousness and can still move all fingers and toes - which Steve knows is an excellent sign - but that doesn’t change the fact that his heart is pounding in his chest as they’re wheeling Sam into a trauma room. Various people in scrubs are following him in and then Steve sees Tony walking down the hall at a swift pace, coming towards them. He looks at the cluster of firefighters hovering by the trauma room door and then his eyes land on Steve. 

“Steve,” Tony says and Steve is somewhat surprised that Tony even remembers his name. 

“Tony,” Steve says a little hoarsely. Steve certainly didn’t forget Tony’s name. Tony’s been on his mind a couple of times, if he’s entirely honest. 

“I’ll let you know when we know something, okay?” Tony says rapidly, nodding at Steve as he’s pushing his way into the room where Sam is. 

Steve nods, breathes out a “Thank you” but Tony’s already out of sight. At least he knows Sam is in good hands. 

“ _ Tony? _ ” Bucky asks pointedly, raising an eyebrow at Steve. 

“Doctor Stark,” Steve says, clenching his jaw and not looking at Bucky. “He was the doctor that treated me when I was - ”

“Yeah, I remember,” Bucky says, “I just didn’t realize it was  _ Tony _ .” 

“Shut up,” Steve mutters, and he hates that he’s such an open book to Bucky sometimes. But he guesses that’s what he gets when they’ve known each other since childhood. 

Bucky drops it in favor of staring at the door where they’ve wheeled Sam through, clearly too worried to get into Steve’s embarrassing crushes right now. 

“It’s gonna be okay,” Steve says, sliding a hand over Bucky’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“That guy bugs the hell out of me,” Bucky says, half-annoyed as he glares menacingly at the door, “But damn if I don’t love him to pieces.” 

“I know,” Steve says, squeezing his fingers in the padding of Bucky’s vest. “He’s gonna be fine.” 

“He’s too stubborn to be taken down,” Natasha says as she appears on Bucky’s other side, wiping at a black smear of soot on her cheek. 

Bucky smiles sadly and they all go back to waiting in silence. 

Thor goes for a coffee run after a while and Steve steps outside to make some phone calls - to Fire Chief Fury, for one - and when he comes back he can see Tony and a red-headed nurse talking to his company. Steve curses himself for choosing this moment to step away but Bucky has a relieved smile on his face and Natasha is hugging Clint so Steve feels like it’s a safe bet to assume it’s good news. 

“Cap!” Natasha calls out when she sees him approach. Her smile is all the confirmation he needs. “Sam’s gonna be fine. Doctor Stark here was just telling us the good news.” 

“Yeah?” Steve turns to Tony, hopeful. 

“Absolutely,” Tony says with a reassuring nod, “Mister Wilson has some contusions, and he had a dislocated shoulder that we pulled back into place, but no fractures, no internal bleeding, no brain damage. He’ll just need to rest up for a couple of weeks.”

“Of course,” Steve says, already thinking of some light work Sam could do around the Fire House when he first comes back, without throwing him into active duty straight away. 

“All in all he was very lucky,” Tony says, “And he’ll make a complete and full recovery.” 

“Can we see him?” Bucky asks, looking between Tony and the striking nurse beside him. 

“They’re taking him to a room now,” Tony says, “You can see him there. Nurse Potts here will show you.” 

The nurse - Nurse Potts - nods with a smile and makes a gesture for them to follow her, which they do. Steve doesn’t move just yet, hoping to catch another word with Tony. As he sees his company trail behind Nurse Potts excitedly and inelegantly, he can’t help but call out, “Not all at once, you guys! And please behave!” He doesn’t want them to get kicked out for being loud or disruptive in the hospital.

There are muttered “yeah, yeah!”s being thrown back and Steve just lets out a deep sigh before scrubbing his fingers over his eyes. He feels bone tired all of a sudden. 

“You okay?” Tony asks, genuine concern audible in his voice. 

Steve swallows and nods, giving Tony a weak smile. 

“I’m responsible for them,” he just says, slumping his shoulders. 

“He really is going to be fine, Steve,” Tony says, trying to catch Steve’s eyes as if he can somehow convey his sincerity in them. 

“Thank you,” Steve says and he hopes he can make Tony understand how much he means that. 

“They’re lucky to have such a caring Captain,” Tony says. 

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugs, “I can be a hard-ass.” 

“I have a hard time believing that, actually,” Tony says, an amused twinkle in his eyes. 

“Oh really?” Steve asks, raising his eyebrows. Two seconds of talking to Tony and he already feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. How on earth does he do that? 

“You seem like a soft puppy,” Tony grins, giving him a wink. 

Steve hopes he’s not blushing too much right now, which seems to become a little bit of a default setting when he’s around Tony. “That’s not what they say when I make them do push-ups in full gear though,” Steve says with a shrug of the shoulder. 

“Ouch,” Tony says, and then there’s a phone going off in the pocket of his scrubs, and Tony lets out a sigh as he takes it out and looks at the screen. He shoots Steve an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, I have to…” 

“Of course,” Steve says, already taking a step back, fully expecting Tony to step away. 

Instead, Tony answers the phone and holds up his finger at Steve, indicating that he wants him to wait. He talks into his phone for a few moments, before hanging up and he actually looks somewhat disappointed when he says, “I’m sorry, they need me on a consult.” 

“Oh, of course,” Steve says quickly, because of course Tony has more important things to do than stand here and talk to Steve, even if he does look like he doesn’t really want to go. 

“Sorry, I’ll uh,” Tony says, shuffling a little bit on his feet, “Maybe I’ll catch you later?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says and he can’t help the smile on his face, “Those foreign objects wait for no one!” 

Tony looks confused for a second, before he clearly recalls their last conversation and snorts loudly. 

“So important,” he mouths as he points to himself, before turning and stepping away from Steve with a grin on his face. 

Steve smiles stupidly until Tony disappears from view. He tries to shake thoughts of Tony out of his head and goes off to find Sam’s room. 

***

“I don’t remember calling for a Stripper Gram,” Tony says with a cheeky grin as he steps into the examination room. 

“Steve’s favorite doctor…” Bucky drawls, and it’s kind of eerie to Steve how Bucky’s grin matches Tony’s. 

“Steve’s favorite firefighter buddy,” Tony counters, nodding hello. 

“Bucky,” Bucky introduces himself, then turns to Steve and says, “I’ll just go find the vending machines while you get stitched up. Or maybe the nurses’ station.” He wiggles his eyebrows at Steve, who can’t help but roll his eyes. 

“Anything I should know?” Tony asks Bucky, glancing over at Steve’s arm as he snaps on a pair of gloves. 

“He was saving a kitten from a rooftop,” Bucky says, deadpan. 

“No shit,” Tony says, wide eyed, “You guys actually do that?” 

“He’s our poster boy,” Bucky laughs and then he’s out the door, leaving Tony alone with Steve in the examination room. 

“So what went wrong?” Tony asks as he pulls over a rolling chair and sits down on it, “While you were so heroically saving nests of kittens out of trees?” 

“It was one cat,” Steve corrects, a little bit embarrassed, “And it was a rooftop, not a tree.” 

“Please tell me someone took pictures,” Tony muses, rolling over to where Steve is sitting on a chair next to the examination table. Steve bites his lip sheepishly. “So what happened?” 

“The cat was scared,” Steve shrugs, looking down at his injury, “Struggled in my hands. I lost my footing and my arm caught on a metal piece sticking out of the gutter.” 

“And it did quite a number, I see,” Tony says, studying Steve’s arm as he carefully lays it out on a sterile cover. “Please tell me you didn’t drop the cat?” 

“How awful would that have been?” Steve asks, shaking his head, “The owner’s daughter was watching and everything.” 

“Oh God,” Tony says, holding in a laugh, “A PR nightmare.” 

“No, the cat’s fine,” Steve says, firmly, “Carried it down the ladder and delivered right into the little girl’s arms, safe and sound.” 

“While you were bleeding on its fur,” Tony says, slipping his hand underneath Steve’s fingers and running his middle finger over Steve’s palm, “Can you feel this normally?” 

“Yeah,” Steve says, trying not to shudder at Tony’s touch. 

“Feeling in all fingertips?” Tony asks, pinching each one between his own latex covered fingers. 

“Yep,” Steve says. 

Tony focuses on the open gash on Steve’s arm, pressing a ball of gauze with disinfectant carefully and methodically over it. Steve’s gaze travels from his own wound to Tony’s face, studying the lines of his lips as they’re pressed together in concentration; the occasional grey hair in that immaculate goatee, the curl of his eyelashes obscuring Steve’s view of those dark liquid eyes of his a little bit, the tiny ridges around those eyes. 

“This is going to need stitches,” Tony says, looking up at Steve and catching him staring. Steve tries not to blush and not to look away like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “When was your last tetanus shot?” 

“Uh, about two years ago?” Steve says, relieved that Tony doesn’t seem to call him out on his blatant staring. “We get yearly physicals. They’re always up to date with all our vaccines and stuff.” 

“Good,” Tony says, getting up from his chair to get some supplies, “You’re not afraid of needles, are you?” 

“They’re not my idea of a fun time,” Steve says, looking over at the ugly looking wound on his arm. It looks like it should hurt more than it actually does. “But I’m okay.” 

“I’ll be gentle,” Tony says with a suggestive tone to his voice, which provokes a fluttering in Steve’s stomach for a second. 

“Lucky me,” Steve says, catching Tony’s eyes and Steve is very aware of the fact that he’s flirting. Or trying to, in any case. Steve is no expert, to say the least. But Tony doesn’t seem to be put off, which is something. 

“I’m just gonna numb the area with lidocaine before stitching it up, okay?” Tony asks, sitting back down next to Steve, now holding a syringe in his hand. 

True to his word, Tony is gentle. He gives Steve the lidocaine injection, chats with Steve while they wait for the wound to numb, then expertly closes it up with stitches. Steve watches as Tony’s hands flow over Steve’s arm, nimble and steady. It’s almost mesmerizing to watch. He tries not to think of what else those skilful fingers could do. 

“I don’t think it’ll leave much of a scar,” Tony says as he finishes off by wrapping a clean bandage around Steve’s arm. 

“Thanks, Tony,” Steve says, and every inch of him is wanting to ask Tony for his phone number, or maybe give him his - although surely the hospital has Steve’s number on file - but for all the heroism Steve can muster up when he’s on the job, he can’t help but let fear and insecurity take over when it comes to this. Sure, Tony is incredibly friendly and charming, and yes at times it certainly feels like he’s flirting with Steve, but what if that’s just the way Tony is? What if he’s like this with all his patients? What if Steve is misreading the entire thing because his own wishes are clouding his judgement? What if Tony is quite simply a nice guy, a good doctor, and Steve is kidding himself when he thinks there’s some sort of connection between the both of them? 

“Try not to get hurt again, alright?” Tony says, pulling off his gloves and throwing them in the trash, “That’s a dangerous job you’ve got there.” 

Steve presses his lips together in a tight line, shaking his head solemnly. “Can’t leave those kittens up them trees, doc. It’s a risk I have to take.”

And maybe Steve is walking out without Tony’s phone number, but at least it gets him a blooming smile in return and that’ll have to do for now. 

***

“Just ask him out already,” Bucky says as he adds the chopped onions to the pan. 

“Bucky…” Steve sighs, whisking the sauce in his pot. 

“Who are we talking about now?” Natasha asks, plopping down at the counter in the station’s kitchen and stealing a piece of carrot from the cutting board in front of Bucky. 

“Nobody,” Steve says, at the same time as Bucky says, “Doctor Stark.” 

“Ooooh,” Natasha coos, her eyes bright in interest, “The tiny one with the goatee?” 

“He’s not tiny,” Steve mutters, a little bit petulant. Tony’s maybe a few inches smaller than Steve, maybe Tony doesn’t have the physique of the average firefighter, but he’s sure as hell packing a lot of muscle underneath those tight scrubs. Anyone should be able to see that. Steve surely can’t be the only one looking. 

“That’s the one,” Bucky says, because he’s a traitor if Steve ever saw one. 

“So why haven’t you asked him out yet, boss?” Natasha asks, and now Clint and Sam are joining them in the open kitchen as well. Wonderful, more of an audience to witness Steve’s embarrassment.

“Because he’s a chicken,” Bucky says and Steve has half a mind to pour the pot of bechamel over his head. 

“I can talk for myself, thank you, Lieutenant,” Steve huffs out annoyed, giving Bucky a look. 

“Alright Captain,” Bucky says with a smirk, “So why haven’t you?” 

All eyes are on him now and he doesn’t actually have an answer at the ready. He can already see the amusement on their faces. Steve has most definitely lost all authority of his own damn Fire House. 

“None of your business, that’s why,” Steve says firmly, trying not to cringe at how lame he sounds. 

Clint laughs obnoxiously loud and Steve sighs. 

“I just…” He picks up the cutting board and drops the rest of the vegetables into Bucky’s pan, because Bucky’s definitely not paying attention to their lasagna prep anymore. “It’s not that easy, okay?” 

“Sure it is,” Bucky says, waving his spoon over the counter, “You know Sam’s got a date with one of the nurses there?” 

Steve looks over at Sam to find him grinning smugly. 

“Yeah, well, I’m not Sam,” Steve mutters, turning down the stove a bit. 

“Cap, you have to know that you’re a hot piece of ass, right?” Natasha says, leaning on her elbows on the counter, giving Steve a look. 

“I’m straight as an arrow and even I have to agree with that,” Clint nods absentmindedly, “You’re smoking.” 

“Your arrow’s a bit bent, Barton,” Natasha says matter-of-factly, “Everyone knows about you and Assistant Chief Coulson at the fundraiser afterparty last year.” 

“Wha - ?” Clint sputters indignant, his eyes wide. 

“Seriously though,” Bucky says, leaving Clint to turn bright red in the face and turning back to Steve, “Just ask him. What do you have to lose?” 

“I don’t even know if he’s single!” Steve says, his stomach twisting in knots, “For all I know he’s married with five kids!” 

“Yo T’Challa!” Sam calls out to the living area, where Thor and T’Challa are playing video games. “Your sister’s a doctor at the hospital, right?” 

“Shuri?” T’Challa yells back, “Yeah, she works neurology.” 

“Please don’t,” Steve mutters, rubbing his fingers over his eyes. 

“Does she know that Stark dude?” Sam asks loudly, and if there was anyone left in the station that wasn’t aware of Steve’s infatuation with Tony, they would be now, “ER doc?” 

“Probably,” T’Challa answers, the bleeping of the video game suddenly halting as he most likely put it on pause, “Why?” 

It’s like a trainwreck that’s about to happen in front of his eyes and there’s nothing Steve can do to stop it. He suddenly prays for the alarm to go off. 

“Ask her if he’s single and swinging Cap’s way, won’t ya?” Sam shouts out as Natasha chuckles and Bucky looks annoyingly smug. 

“Please don’t!” Steve calls out, scrunching up his face. 

“I’ll be discreet!” T’Challa yells back, passing over Steve’s objection. 

“You guys wouldn't know discreet if it bit you in the ass,” Steve says, handing over his spoon and thus his cooking duty to Bucky as he steps away from the stove. “I hate you all and I need some air.” 

“Love you too, Cap!” Clint calls out after him as Steve makes his way to the exit with a sigh. 

***

The light above Steve’s face is too bright, it makes the pounding in his head even worse and the jostle of the stretcher he’s being wheeled on does nothing to help with the nausea. 

“‘m fine,” Steve mutters, like a default setting, even though deep down he knows he’s not entirely. His head hurts like hell and there’s a really bad taste in his mouth, though he can’t quite recall when he might have thrown up. 

People are talking all around him as the stretcher finally stops, but unfortunately it does nothing to stop the nausea or dizziness. The voices are loud, and he’s trying to follow what it is they’re saying but he seems to be in a bit of a haze. He thinks he can make out Bucky’s voice, familiar and steady as he gives a situation report of what happened, and then he hears… 

“T’ny?” Steve asks, prying his eyes open to see, but the light hits him like a brick in the stomach and all of a sudden he’s being turned on his side by multiple hands and yeah… this time he’s aware of the throwing up. 

Fuck, did he just vomit in front of Tony and half the hospital staff? What the hell is wrong with him? He’s gently being rolled back on his back and then Tony’s voice is there again, hovering over him. 

“Steve?” Tony asks, “I need you to stay awake for me, okay? Can you do that?” 

Steve wants to answer, wants to tell Tony he’ll do whatever Tony needs from him, but he’s not entirely sure he’s actually saying anything. There’s more bustle around him, hands on his body as they’re removing the layers of his uniform, the pinch of an IV being stuck into his arm. He’s faintly aware that he’s being moved again, through hallways, under bright lights. At some point he thinks he’s being rolled into a scanner, but it’s all a bit of a fuzz in his brain. He hears voices he recognizes and voices he doesn’t, machines beeping and Steve thinks maybe he’s supposed to be doing something else, like lead his company, but something tells him they’ll be in Bucky’s safe hands if he’s not there. 

At some point the blinding pain in his head becomes a dull thump and the nausea subsides a little bit to the point where he doesn’t have to vomit anymore and when he opens his eyes the room has stopped spinning. 

There’s a nurse - Steve has seen her before, can’t remember if he knows her name - busying herself with his IV line, and then a familiar face appears in his line of sight and Steve’s entire body relaxes as he looks up at Tony with what he thinks is a dopey smile on his face. 

“Well hello there,” Tony says, a hand steady and warm on Steve’s chest, “How are you feeling?” 

“‘m fine,” Steve says, his throat a bit raspy. 

Tony gives him a somewhat tired smile. “I think if you say you’re fine one more time today, your friend Bucky is going to smack you over the head,” Tony says patiently, “And I can’t recommend that, with that concussion of yours.” 

“Oh,” Steve says. That explains a lot. 

“Do you remember what happened?” Tony asks, placing his hands on either side of Steve’s neck and gently rubbing his fingers into his nape. 

“Uhm…” Steve says, a little bit distracted by how good Tony’s fingers feel against his skin, and then they’re gone again. It’s probably bad protocol to ask a doctor to do his examination again just because it feels nice, Steve thinks absentmindedly. “I think I hit my head?” That feels like a safe bet. 

“You’re nothing if not the king of minimization, Steve,” Tony shakes his head, “I think I’m starting to understand your friend. From what they told me, part of the building collapsed on you. Which is not something I recommend.” 

“Oh,” Steve says again. “Did they - ? Is everyone okay?” 

“Nobody else got hurt,” Tony says reassuringly, “But you’re gonna have to stay overnight for observation.”

Steve can’t help but sigh. 

“We did a CAT scan, which confirms it’s a concussion and nothing worse,” Tony says, his hand finding its way to Steve’s upper arm and resting there. “But you lost consciousness at the scene and vomited several times; you were not very coherent, so we’re keeping you for 24 hours, just to be sure.” 

“Oh God,” Steve says, recalling bits and pieces of it now. He winces as he asks, “I didn’t throw up all over you, did I?”

Tony just smiles, squeezing Steve’s arm in comfort and Steve kind of wants to disappear, he’s so embarrassed. 

“Your colleagues are out in the hallway,” Tony says, “They’ve been waiting to see you. Do you think you’re up for it? No more than two at a time?”

“Is Bucky really gonna smack me over the head?” Steve asks, a weak smile on his face. 

“Just don’t tell him you’re fine,” Tony answers and Steve realizes Tony still got his hand lingering on Steve’s arm, reassuring and grounding. Tony’s eyes meet his as he adds, “You had people worried, Steve.” 

Steve assumes Tony means just his company, though he’s not entirely sure. 

When Tony leaves, Bucky and Natasha enter the room. Steve can still feel where Tony’s hand rested on his skin. 

His colleagues come and go and so do some nurses to check in on him. He gets taken to a private room, and Steve isn’t sure how long he dozes off but when he wakes up again it’s dark outside. There’s a small light over at the opposite side of the room, but it’s just weak enough not to bother him. He doesn’t turn on the tv, his head still sensitive and woozy. 

“Do you just work all the time?” Steve asks when the door opens carefully and Tony walks in. 

“I’m just finishing up my shift actually,” Tony says. He doesn’t turn on the brighter lights, just comes to stand by Steve’s bed and looks him over. “How are you feeling?” 

“I’m f - ” Steve starts, but halts abruptly. 

Tony huffs out a laugh, his eyes warm as they don’t seem to leave Steve’s. 

“Better,” Steve tries again, earnestly. “A bit of a headache. A bit… I don’t know, shaky. But way better than before.” 

“Good,” Tony nods, approvingly, “That’s all normal. You’re gonna need to take it easy and really take the time to rest. And  _ then  _ you’ll be fine.” 

Steve reaches out subconsciously, places his hand on top of Tony’s, which is resting on the side rail of Steve’s bed. It’s only when his palm touches Tony’s skin that he realizes what he’s done, and a bundle of nerves makes his way through Steve’s entire body as he forces himself not to pull back hurriedly. “Thank you, Tony,” he says instead, trying to keep his voice steady as he squeezes Tony’s hand slightly before slowly pulling his back. Tony doesn’t seem offended or weirded out. He just smiles softly at Steve and the nerves that have settled into Steve’s stomach carefully turn into a more pleasant feeling.

Tony stays for a little while, Steve isn’t quite sure how long exactly, but they talk about unimportant things, things that Steve’s fuzzed up brain can follow, and it makes it less awful that Steve has to stay in the hospital. 

“Well, I better get going now,” Tony says at some point, a somewhat regretful smile on his face. 

“Right,” Steve says, trying not to let his disappointment shine through. “You’ve probably got other patients to get to.” 

“I’m heading home, actually,” Tony says, rounding Steve’s bed to make his way to the hallway. “I’m done for the day.” 

Steve stares at Tony with an open mouth and blinks. “Wait?” Steve says, frowning as he takes in Tony’s appearance. “You’re finishing up or you’ve already ended your shift?” No scrubs. Tony isn’t wearing his scrubs anymore, just a pair of jeans and a blue button-up, and Steve doesn't understand how he didn’t notice this before? Surely the concussion and the low light in the room are to blame. Maybe the fact that Steve was just so happy to see Tony come to his room?

Tony simply gives him another smile, soft and earth shatteringly beautiful. “Goodnight, Steve,” he says and then he leaves the room. 

***

The door opens and Steve’s beginning smile fades away when the doctor stepping in is, in fact,  _ not _ Tony. 

“Good morning, I’m Doctor Banner,” said doctor says, pushing his glasses up his nose as he looks down at the chart in his hands, “Steven Rogers?” 

“That’s me,” Steve says, trying not to let his disappointment show. Of course Tony can’t be on shift twenty four - seven, and even if he was, there are other doctors working at this hospital too. It’s not like he can expect Tony’s personal care every single time he ends up here. No matter how much he’d like that. 

“What seems to be the problem, Mister Rogers?” Doctor Banner asks, friendly and exuding a tremendous calm. 

Steve glances over at Bucky, who is once more standing next to his examination bed, arms crossed in front of his chest. It seems to be a pattern. Steve didn’t want to come here today, he just wanted to wait, confident that the pain would go away on its own, but Bucky is a mother hen and a huge pain in his ass, and that’s how he ends up here anyway even though their shift ended this morning and Steve could be at home right now, sound asleep in his bed. 

“I sort of hurt my wrist last night during our shift,” Steve admits, lifting up his left arm to show the doctor. 

“And how did that happen?” Doctor Banner asks, putting the chart down and taking Steve’s wrist carefully in his hands. 

“I kind of stumbled and caught my weight on my hand,” Steve says. 

“And the weight of the grown ass man he was carrying,” Bucky insists on adding, which causes Doctor Banner to raise his eyebrows at Bucky. “We’re firefighters,” Bucky clarifies, “Steve was carrying someone out of a burning building, over the rubble of the house coming down around them.” 

“I lost my footing,” Steve says with a shrug, “Kept from falling by putting my hand down.” 

“Right,” Doctor Banner says and starts his examination. Steve gets an x-ray, a diagnosis of a mild sprain - he could have told Bucky that - and a brace to keep on for the next few days until he’s all healed up. Doctor Banner is kind, calm and professional. Steve couldn’t say a bad word about him. But he isn’t Tony. 

Steve gets discharged relatively quickly, and he’s making his way towards the exit complaining to Bucky about how this was a completely unnecessary trip to the hospital when they all but bump straight into… 

“Tony!” Steve says, way too loudly and way too enthusiastically. 

“Steve,” Tony says, his first reaction a smile, which fades quickly when his eyes land on Steve’s wrapped up wrist. “What happened?” 

“Just a sprain,” Steve says dismissively, holding up his wrist for a second. “Doctor Banner treated me.” 

“You were in good hands then,” Tony says, “Bruce is an excellent doctor.” 

“This one here was a bit disappointed he didn’t get to fill out his fidelity card with you though, Doctor Stark,” Bucky says with a cheeky grin.

“Buck…” Steve grits through his teeth, but Tony just looks amused. 

“I didn’t even think I needed to come,” Steve says, because he’s not just going to let himself get thrown under the bus like that. The last thing he wants is for Tony to think he’s some kind of hypochondriac attention seeker. 

“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Tony sighs, frowning slightly. 

“He’s a nightmare, doc,” Bucky shakes his head, exasperated, “He messes up his hand while carrying this guy out of a building that’s going up in flames - ” Steve groans quietly, because really? Tony doesn’t need to know all the details, it sounds so pompous and pretentious “ - but he still insists on continuing his shift all the way to the end, pretending nothing is wrong when anyone in their right mind can see he’s hurting!” 

“There’s no fracture,” Steve persists, “It would’ve gone away on its own.” 

“You have no idea what I have to do to get him to come to the hospital,” Bucky goes on, as if Steve didn’t even speak. 

“At least one of you is sensible,” Tony says, and he looks distinctly less amused than Steve would have hoped. He frowns at Steve, actually looking a bit annoyed. It makes Steve’s stomach drop. A disappointed or angry Tony is not what he needs right now. “Your stubbornness is gonna get you killed one of these days, Steve,” Tony says with a deep sigh. 

“That’s what I keep telling him,” Bucky says, and great, now they’re ganging up on him. 

“It comes with the job, Bucky,” Steve defends himself, “I don’t have to tell you that. We get into dangerous situations, a sprained wrist really isn’t the end of the world.” 

“It’s not the sprained wrist that bugs me, Steve,” Bucky bites back, fully pissed off now, “It’s the fact that you keep insisting you’re fine, whether you’ve sprained your ankle or you’ve had a building fall down on you. I always have to twist your arm to get you to see a doctor! Even if it’s Tony!” 

Steve groans. He really doesn’t want to have this conversation, and certainly not in front of Tony.  _ Especially _ not in front of Tony if Bucky is going to drop hints like that. 

“Buck, can we just… not?” Steve says, defeated. The toll of a night shift without sleep is starting to get to him, his patience running thin. 

“Fine,” Bucky huffs, clearly feeling the same way. “I’ll go get the car around.” He turns to Tony. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him, doc?” and then Bucky’s heading out the door. 

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers as he squeezes his eyes shut for a second. He sighs before turning to Tony with an apologetic look on his face. “I’m sorry, that was…” Steve trails off, “It was a long shift, we haven’t slept yet because he insisted on bringing me here first.”

“Hey, I get it,” Tony says, pulling Steve to the side a little bit, to let people pass. God, was he really making a scene in the middle of a hospital hallway? “But he’s not entirely wrong, you know?” 

“He worries too much,” Steve says quickly, “I’m good at what I do - ”

“Whoa,” Tony says, holding up a hand to stop Steve, “Nobody’s questioning that. He just told the heroic tale of how you single handedly carried a man out of a burning building. That’s pretty impressive, Steve.” 

Steve ducks his head as he’s sure he’s flushing a deep red. 

“But when you inevitably get hurt, you need to make sure you accept some help for that too,” Tony goes on, determined, “Because if you keep insisting you’re fine, and hiding or downplaying your injuries, you’re just gonna get everyone worried things are way worse than they are.” 

“I was just waiting,” Steve says, softly, “I figured the pain would go away on its own.” 

“Or you could have made it worse by not treating it right away,” Tony says, then sighs. “Look, I’m not trying to reprimand you or anything. Who am I to tell you how to live your life? It’s just… people care about you. They don’t want to see you hurt.” 

“Yeah, no, I get that,” Steve nods, worrying the inside of his cheek between his teeth. 

“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” Tony says softly, and Steve’s eyes snap up to him in surprise. “As much as I like seeing you here at the hospital, I don’t like seeing you here at the hospital, you know?” Tony’s eyes are warm and sincere and Steve has to swallow away the lump in his throat. 

Suddenly an alarm goes off in a room somewhere down the hallway and Tony closes his eyes for a split second as he clenches his jaw. Adrenaline shoots through Steve’s body, even though it’s not the kind of alarm  _ he _ is supposed to react to. But then Tony mutters hurriedly, “I’m sorry,” and he runs down the hall, followed by some other people in scrubs and he’s gone. 

Steve fights his body not to go after him, instead makes his way to the exit where Bucky is no doubt waiting with the car. 

***

It’s one of those days where everything just goes wrong right from the start. 

For some reason, the hot water won’t turn on in his apartment in the morning so he has to take a cold shower, leaving him pretty much frozen the rest of the day. On his way to work, his barista gives him the wrong coffee order - no, he is not Stephen with a ‘ph’. While getting into his uniform, one of his suspenders snaps for no reason. Minor hiccup, he just puts on another pair, it’s just annoying is what it is, and he apparently made a mistake on some paperwork the day before which earns him a chewing out from Fury. 

It’s definitely one of those days and Steve is starting to think he should have just stayed at home today.

That thought is definitely confirmed when he makes his way into the wreck of the bus and the whole thing starts creaking loudly. There’s thunderous yelling behind him and when Steve takes a deep breath and looks over his shoulder, he can see Thor at the side of the bus where the whole thing got ripped open. 

“Cap! You need to get back here!” he yells out, his voice booming, “This thing isn’t secured yet!” 

Steve glances back over to the front of the bus, where he can see the bus driver hunched over her steering wheel, non responsive. 

“She could still be alive!” Steve yells back, the ominous creaking continuing and as he makes his way a little bit deeper into the vehicle, the whole thing shifts slightly. 

“Steve!” Bucky shouts, now joining Thor, “Get the fuck out of there!” 

Steve can see Bucky lifting a leg to take a step into the wreck of the vehicule, the whole thing groaning again. 

“Stop!” Steve calls back, and Bucky freezes, luckily still safely on the outside of the bus. “It’s not steady!” 

The front of the bus is hanging over the edge of the bridge, over the whirling water below. All of the passengers got off safely with their help, it’s only the bus driver who is still stuck at the very front and she appears to be unconscious, or worse. But as long as there is the tiniest chance that she’s still alive, Steve has to do everything he can to get her out of there. 

“That’s what we’re saying!” Bucky yells, “So get the hell back here!” 

Steve looks between his colleagues and the driver in the front, trying to make a judgement call. He knows it isn’t safe, knows he’s taking a huge risk and he has to safeguard his own life first, otherwise he’s no use to anyone at all. He’s just about to take a few steps back, towards the gaping hole in the side of the bus where he can exit safely, when he hears a pained groan coming from the front of the bus. 

“She’s alive!” Steve calls out, carefully shuffling his feet back the other way. 

The whole thing creaks and starts shifting forward all of a sudden, the floor tilting over as Steve grips one of the seats to try and steady himself. He can hear the others yelling and then the whole bus is falling down, plummeting into the river with a crash. 

Everything around Steve goes dark. 

***

Everything is still dark around Steve. He’s disoriented and lightheaded, and he doesn’t even think opening his eyes is an option. There is an indistinct buzzing around his ears, but he can’t make out a single thing. He’s too tired to even try. He doesn’t know how long he stays in this state, it could be a few minutes or a few hours. Slowly, very slowly, things begin to clear up a bit. The noises sound vaguely familiar. A steady beeping. An alarm every once in a while. Voices that are talking around him but not  _ at _ him. Maybe they are? Steve can’t make them out just yet. 

The first thing he can really identify around him is that he’s cold. He wants to pull a blanket over himself, but his arms are too heavy to move. His legs too. There’s something over his face, around his mouth and nose, he can feel it as he moves his mouth, trying to lick his lips. He starts what feels like the herculean task of opening his eyes. It takes him a ridiculous amount of time and the light hitting them prickles at first. 

“Steve?” 

Steve isn’t entirely sure if his answer is said out loud or just in his head. 

“Can you hear me?” 

Steve knows that voice, he does. And yes, he can hear Tony. He blinks a few times, until his eyes start to focus again and then he can see him. Tony’s face hovering over him. 

Steve opens his mouth, not really sure what he’s trying to say, but all that seems to come out is a muffled groan anyway. Tony takes the thing - it’s an oxygen mask - off his face gently. 

“C-c’ld,” Steve mutters, and he kind of just wants to go back to sleep but it’s too damn cold. 

“Can we get him a heated blanket, please?” Tony asks someone that is out of Steve’s view. “Can you hear me?” Tony asks, shining a little light over his eyes. Blinding, then away, then blinding again. Tony is looking from eye to eye, his face stern and Steve kind of wants to tell him to smile. Steve really likes Tony’s smile. 

“Steve?” Tony asks again, frowning, and Steve realizes he hasn’t tried to answer him. 

“T’ny,” Steve manages to get past his lips, trying his best to nod so Tony can know that yes, he does hear him. 

“You’re in the hospital, okay?” Tony says and then someone comes and places a warm blanket over him and Steve kind of wants to cry at how good it feels. Tony pulls it up his chest - his naked chest, Steve now realizes - and over his shoulders. The warmth seeps into his skin and nothing has ever felt this good before. “Better?” Tony asks, tucking Steve in carefully, and Steve lets out a blissful sigh. “You had an accident at work, okay?” Tony goes on, “You crashed into the river. You were under water for a while before your friends managed to get you out.”

“‘Kay…” Steve says, trying his best to focus on Tony and what he’s saying - not just on  _ Tony _ . 

It’s sort of coming back to him now, bits and pieces flashing in front of his eyes. The bus wreck. The way it was hanging over the edge of the bridge with the river below. Oh God, he fell into the river? He can remember the whole thing going down now. He can remember Thor and Bucky screaming at him. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Tony says, reassuring, “You…” He sighs, looks away for a second with an unreadable expression on his face. “You’re gonna be okay now,” he finally finishes. 

Something tells Steve that maybe he wasn’t so okay at some point before waking up in a hospital bed with Tony hanging over him. He’s glad it’s Tony, even if he doesn’t smile. 

Then Steve’s mind jolts him awake completely as he suddenly realizes. 

“Tony?” Steve asks, his voice sounding rough and weak, like he hasn’t used it for days. His heart is pounding in his chest and he can actually  _ hear _ it on the monitor next to him. “The bus driver?” 

Tony’s face twists into something that tells Steve what he needs to know before Tony even says the words. “I’m sorry, Steve.” 

Steve takes a shaky breath, closes his eyes as he tilts his head to the side. He doesn’t want Tony to look at him, doesn’t want Tony to see that he has failed. He can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Tony doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to soothe him with platitudes, for which Steve is grateful. He just puts a hand on Steve’s chest, the weight pressing warmth into his heart. 

Even though Steve doesn’t feel like he deserves it, it still feels nice. 

***

When he’s being moved to a private room, Steve is allowed two visitors, on the agreement that they stay only five minutes and that they keep it down. No exerting the patient, and Nurse Potts doesn’t look like she’s messing around. 

He gets to see Bucky and Sam, who are unusually subdued when they walk in. 

“Bucky…” Steve says as he sees Bucky’s crestfallen face. 

“Just… don’t,” Bucky whispers as he takes large strides to reach Steve’s bed and leans down to hug him. Bucky’s hair falls in Steve’s face and Bucky can’t quite get his arms around him because of Steve’s position laying down on the bed, but Steve lifts his arms as best as he can without jostling the IV line too much and hugs back. Though awkward, it still feels really nice. 

“It’s good to have you back, Cap,” Sam says warmly when Bucky finally pulls away and Steve wonders where he went? 

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, because he means it. For letting himself get hurt again, for not being able to save that woman, for leaving his men to clean up the mess: for failing. 

“Nah, man, don’t start doing that,” Sam shakes his head with a soft smile, “It’s bad enough this one is going all emo on me.” He nudges Bucky with his elbow, who actually looks a bit embarrassed but pushes Sam back anyway. 

Steve wants to say more, but then Nurse Potts comes in to shoo Bucky and Sam out, telling them they can come back tomorrow and stay a little longer if Steve’s condition allows it. Steve wants to say he feels fine, but bites his tongue when he takes one more look at Bucky’s face. He looks worn to a frazzle, so Steve just thanks them and lets them go home for the night. He’ll be glad to see them again tomorrow. 

The short visit seems to have taken a lot out of Steve, because once they leave he can feel his eyes start to droop and he falls asleep while the nurse is still fiddling with his medication. 

When Steve wakes back up, the room is mostly dark and things are quiet around him. He feels a bit less like he got run over by a train, though his chest and lungs do feel somewhat sore. He’s a little bit thirsty, but he doesn’t want to call on a nurse in the middle of the night just to bring him some water. 

It takes a while for his eyes to adjust to the darkness in the room. The door is left ajar, the light from the hallway filtering in and bit by bit he can start making out more and more in the room, and then his eyes fall on an armchair in the corner. An armchair in which a figure is slumped down, head to the side, sound asleep. Tony. 

Steve’s heart staggers in his chest, his eyes glued to Tony’s face. Even in his sleep he still looks tired and Steve wonders how much sleep he is even getting, and why he isn’t at home in his comfortable bed? The thought of Tony staying in the hospital, in Steve’s room, to… What? Check up on Steve? To be near Steve? It’s almost too much to hope for. Steve feels his chest tighten, his stomach fluttering. He wants to reach out and touch Tony, brush the wild strands of hair away from his forehead, rest his palm against Tony’s cheek and smoothe the frown lines from between Tony’s eyebrows with his thumb. He wants Tony to climb into this stupidly tiny hospital bed with Steve and cradle him against his chest, securing his arms around Tony’s body and letting him sleep with his head pillowed underneath Steve’s chin as their breathing evens out in a rhythm together. 

Steve watches until Tony starts awake with a tiny gasp, eyes blinking as they look around the room before landing on Steve. 

“Hey…” Steve says softly, and he can’t help the hopeful smile on his face. 

“Hey,” Tony croaks out, clearing his throat. 

“That can’t be too comfortable,” Steve says apologetically as he nods towards the chair Tony was asleep on. He tries a weak smile. 

“It’s okay,” Tony says, not an ounce of levity in his voice as he gets up off the chair and moves over to the muted monitor next to Steve’s bed, focusing on Steve’s vitals before touching the IV hanging next to it, adjusting the roller clamp slightly. “Are you in pain?” Tony asks, glancing over Steve’s body like he would somehow be able to tell just by looking at it. 

“I…” Steve says, putting a hand on his chest, “A bit sore. A little bit tight around the chest. But it’s okay.” 

Tony huffs out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah…” He sighs. Steve distinctly does not like to see Tony this way. Worried and tired and maybe a little bit mad at Steve? He falls silent again and Steve just wants to hear him talk again, see him smile at Steve the way he does most of the time, warm and soft and full of affection. 

“So do all your patients get this kind of special care?” Steve asks, a weak attempt to maybe lighten the mood a little bit. 

“No, they don’t, Steve,” Tony says, letting out a shaky breath, “Do you realize how lucky you were?” 

“Well, I would’ve been more lucky if that bus would’ve just stayed put,” Steve mutters, even though his stomach is twisting in a knot. 

“Don’t,” Tony bites out, “For fuck’s sake! Don’t make light of this!” 

“I’m not - ” Steve tries, because Tony is legitimately angry now. 

“You drowned, Steve,” Tony says, his jaw clenched, his hands gripping the side rail around Steve’s bed with a deadly hold, “The time it took to find you in that water… Your friends started CPR until the ambulance came, they brought you back a first time.” 

_ A first time? _ Steve thinks and then he realizes that he doesn’t  _ really _ know what happened to him at all. 

“By the time they brought you into the ER…” Tony’s eyes are full of pain, his voice unsteady. “You crashed again. You came to me with no pulse and no respiration. I had to - ” Tony swallows visibly and Steve is too stunned to say anything, to even put up his hand over Tony’s like he wants to. “I had to shock you multiple times to get your heart started again, so yeah. Yeah. You probably feel sore.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, his eyes wide as he looks up at Tony. “Tony, I’m - ”

“I could have lost you,” Tony blurts out, hanging his head as he leans on his elbows on the side rail. His face looks pained. “I almost did. You were dead on my table and I did everything I could and… What if I had failed, Steve? What if I was the one that couldn’t save you, that couldn’t bring you back? How on earth could I have - ?” He chokes off on a noise that sounds almost like a sob and Steve can’t take it anymore, his heart is hurting for Tony and he reaches out and grips one of Tony’s hands in his. 

“Don’t you know how much you mean to me?” Tony asks on a whisper, clinging back to Steve’s hand. 

There’s a tear rolling out of the corner of his eye before Steve realizes he’s crying, but he doesn’t even care. “I do now,” Steve says, tugging on Tony’s hand a little bit. “Will you please kiss me?” Steve would lean up himself, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have the strength right now, but he can’t go another minute without Tony’s kiss. Luckily Tony seems to understand, and he cups his hand around Steve’s jaw and leans down over the bed, crashing his lips against Steve’s. A jolt of electricity goes through Steve’s body at the touch, so long desired and often imagined and yet it could never have held up a candle to the real thing. To feel Tony’s mouth on his, to swipe out his tongue and push against the seam of Tony’s lips to have them open up for him readily, to know what Tony’s tongue tastes like.

Steve groans into the kiss, suddenly breathless, every hair on his body standing up as Tony’s thumb smoothes away the path of a stray tear on Steve’s face. 

“Captain Rogers?” A voice suddenly calls out as the door swings open, and Tony and Steve break apart with a gasp, staring wide-eyed at the interruption at the door. 

“Oh!” the young man in nursing scrubs exclaims, then his eyes grow large as he stammers out, “Doctor Stark?!”

“Parker,” Tony says in acknowledgement, his shoulders slumping a little bit but there’s a hint of levity in his voice. 

“I’m sorry, Sir,” the kid - he looks underage if Steve’s honest - stumbles over his words, “I - The alarm went off, Captain Rogers’ heart rate was erratic, I came to check…” Tony’s head snaps over at the monitor - still on mute. 

Steve’s glad for the obscurity of the room, it helps in hiding the blush on his face, though Tony does give him a look that has an edge of smugness to it. Steve can’t complain though, he’s glad to see Tony perk up a bit. 

“Yeah, uh…” Tony says, looking from Steve to the nurse, “He’s fine, Peter. He uh - ”

“Yeah,” Peter says, now with a dopey smile on his face, “Okay. I think you’re probably in good hands, Captain.” There’s a definite smirk there. 

“Yeah, alright. Bye, Peter,” Tony says pointedly, his hand carefully slipping into Steve’s. Steve squeezes reassuringly. 

“Goodnight, Doctor Stark,” Peter says cheerfully and slips back out of the room. 

Steve looks up at Tony. “Am I in good hands?” He asks, happy, hopeful. 

Tony looks back at him, the affection in his eyes so palpable it almost makes Steve’s breath catch. “Yeah,” Tony says, taking Steve’s hand in both of his now. He holds him tight. “I promise.” 

“I’m sorry I had you so worried, Tony, I really am,” Steve says, his voice but a whisper in the barely lit room. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” Tony answers, softly. 

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Steve admits. 

“I’m not the one risking my life every day though,” Tony says with a crooked smile. 

“No, but I can be a real idiot sometimes,” Steve says on an exhale, knitting his eyebrows together in a frown. The thought of losing Tony sits heavy in his stomach. “And if I do something stupid like this again and you just have enough and -”

“Hey!” Tony stops him, bringing up a hand to gently run it over Steve’s hair. “Don’t do that. You think I never do anything stupid? You think you’ll like it when I inevitably end up working overtime when we have plans and I’ll cancel on you last minute? Or when I’m tired and cranky? Or hopped up on caffeine and bouncing off the walls?” 

“I can handle it,” Steve gives Tony a smile, because he doesn’t think there’s anything he wouldn’t put up with to be with Tony. 

“Then I can handle you with your hero complex and your desperate need to save everyone,” Tony says, his fingers caressing through Steve’s hair, scratching against his scalp. It feels so good Steve just wants to close his eyes and fall right back asleep.

“You were there to save me,” Steve whispers, leaning into Tony’s touch. “You got my heart beating again. In more ways than one.” 

Steve thinks he can see Tony’s eyes shine with unshed tears in the dim light of the room. 

All worries and pain fade away as Tony leans in. All thoughts of failed interventions and swirling water disappear as Tony’s lips brush gently against his. And Steve’s heart beats on, unbroken, steady, and safe in Tony’s hands. 

***

_ Fin  _

**Author's Note:**

> I am finduilasclln on [Tumblr](https://finduilasclln.tumblr.com/) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/finduilasclln). Come say hi! 
> 
> Just in case you need a visual of what [Steve as a firefighter](https://finduilasclln.tumblr.com/post/188431805076/mcu-firefighter-calendar-sebastian-stan) would look like... :)


End file.
